


Just a Little While Longer

by imightbejehan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cancer, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Sick Fic, but he survives, diner au, idk how to write smut, so probably none, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imightbejehan/pseuds/imightbejehan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean was sick of his daily routine until Marco came into his diner one night and flipped his life upside down.</p><p>Marco was just plain sick before he met Jean and began to live again. </p><p>OR college au/diner au where Marco has cancer and keeps it secret from Jean after they become friends, along with his deep love that they share.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading tons of jeanmarco fics and I've been wanting to write my otp so I thought I'd take a stab at it. It has a happy end because I just can't write something bad for my bbys!!

It was one o’clock in the fucking morning and all Jean wanted to do was go home.

            The diner was pretty much empty now, just Jean manning the cash register and Connie snoring in the kitchen. He was supposed to be cooking, but there hadn’t been a customer in over an hour. Jean would join him, if he didn’t know that all the security cameras were pointed at the bar and dining areas. His boss, Levi, would immediately know that he had taken a little nap and would not hesitate to fire Jean’s broke ass.

            So Jean contented himself with scribbling words onto a semi-clean napkin and tapping out rhythms with his chewed up pen. He may hate having the night shift at Trost Diner, but Jean had to admit the time he had to write for classes _while getting paid_ was fucking fantastic. Maybe he was a little sleep deprived and starved, but hell at least he turned his homework in and paid the rent.

            The bell on the door jingled, shocking Jean out of the poem he was in the middle of composing. He had meant to take the bell off weeks ago, it was March after all and jingle bells didn’t belong in March in Jean’s book.

            He sighed long and hard before looking up with a fake smile plastered on his face to welcome the newcomer.

            And he almost choked on his spit.

            The cutest piece of ass had just walked into Trost Diner. Tan skin was dusted with freckles, which made Jean mad because it was _fucking March for Christ’s sake._ From what he could see the boy was college age, so Jean figured probably a junior judging by height and level of exhaustion radiating from him.

            The CPA looked around the empty diner as if looking for someone, but his eyes fell on Jean leaning on the counter dumbstruck, and he smiled. And it was the best, brightest fucking smile Jean had ever seen, and the kid had probably not slept since two nights ago. Naturally Jean hated him.

            The freckled stranger kept his smile on as he made his way over to Jean, who didn’t struggle as much as he wished to keep his smile. The kid was contagious.

            “Hi. What can I help you with?” If it came out really snippy Jean blamed the late, or early, hour.

            “Hmm, can I have a hot chocolate?” The boy’s voice was soft, matching the way his eyes seemed to glow. This order took Jean aback.

            “It’s one in the fucking morning and you want a hot cocoa?”

            The stranger’s dark brown eyes grew wide, showing his surprise at Jean’s retort, but within seconds he was laughing uncontrollably. Jean was pissed that he was laughing at him. Maybe he was a little happy because his laugh was angelic, fitting him perfectly. But mostly Jean was pissed.

            “Yes, with whipped cream please.” He tilted his head now, shooting Jean an even more dazzling smile. Jean grumbled a yes and went off to the kitchen.

            Hot chocolate wasn’t hard, so he didn’t bother waking up Connie. The mix the diner used was actually Jean’s recipe that he got from his mother. After Levi hired him Jean begged Levi to let him switch the hot cocoa mix out for his personal one because frankly the kind they were using was shit. Levi finally relented and Jean’s hot cocoa was put on the menu and became an instant hit. But Jean didn’t like to take the credit for it; cooking was sissy shit.

            There was a thermos of steaming hot water already made up in the back, so all Jean did was pour it over the perfect amount of mix and add a dollop of homemade whipped cream, courtesy of Jean too. Homemade was so much better than storebought shit.

            He threw a quick glance Connie’s way, where the short boy was draped across a table, and contemplated pouring some water on him. Jean thought about the ruckus he would make and thought better of it, not wanting the freckled boy to call the cops on him.

            Jean walked back into the serving area to find the CPA sitting at the bar with the inked up napkin in his hands. Panic coursed through Jean’s body.

            “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He all but screamed. Jean slammed the mug down, remembering faintly not to spill it, and lunged to take the napkin from the boy. His eyes were wide this time from fear, but Jean hardlyfelt bad about it. Instead he focused on calming himself, taking deep breaths to steady his wildly beating heart.

            “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was yours. It-it was just sitting there I swear!” He stuttered out.

            Jean sighed.

            “Whatever. It’s just school work that I’ve been having trouble with. Enjoy your cocoa.” Jean tried to turn away and start cleaning tables on the far side of the diner, but the stranger kept the conversation flowing.

            “What are you going into, poetry? Do you go to college here in town?”

“Not poetry exactly: creative writing." Jean hated telling people that because he knew that they judged him. _How are you going to make a living?_ They always ask. _However I damn well please_ , was Jean’s usual answer. But the CPA didn’t react that way, he just nodded like he understood and was truly interested, so Jean continued. "I go to the Uni, and for my degree I have to take basically every type of writing ever invented."

The boy chuckled before questioning Jean again. They talked for a long time, Jean opening up more and more with every question. No one had ever quite gotten to him the way the stranger did. Jean found himself forgetting about what time it was and all his worries, instead focusing on the wonder sitting in front of him. The boy hadn’t even taken a drink out of his hot chocolate because he was so invested in Jean’s words; Jean felt like he was walking on fucking air.

When he finally did take a sip of the now chilly drink his eyes grew wide again; Jean realized by now that it was a common reaction for him. He looked down at the mug then back up at Jean, repeating several times before taking a huge gulp.

“Holy shit this is amazing! They were totally right, wow.” It was the first time Jean heard him swear all night, and it was made even more innocent by the whipped cream mustache that now rested on his face. Without thinking Jean wiped it away with a stray napkin, but he found his hand lingering and his eyes staring at the boy’s red lips. He drew away quickly and awkwardly, not missing the way the boy licked his lips.

“Who is they?” Jean asked.

“Oh my friend from Uni, Armin.”

“You’re friends with _Arlert_?” Jean couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice, but frankly he didn’t even try.

“Well yeah. Why?” The boy suddenly seemed unsure of himself, shifting in his chair.

“I just pictured you in more of the cool crowd, but I can see you as a nerd now that I think of it,” Jean teased, leaning on the counter directly in front of the boy and pretending to look him over.

“Hey!” He shouted back, blushing profusely.

“It’s not an insult. Arlert’s pretty nice, now why he chooses to hang out with that dick Jaeger is beyond me.”

The two lapsed back into comfortable silence, Connie’s snores the only noise until a buzz startled the boys. The freckled boy scrambled for his phone, quickly reading over a text and sending out a reply. He looked back up at Jean with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Armin’s worried about me, he doesn’t quite like it when I go out on my own before seven in the morning. Even then he hates it.” He chuckled softly as if it was some sort of joke, and stood up, scratching the back of his neck. “Thank you, um?”

“Jean.”

“Well, thank you Jean for the heavenly hot chocolate. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house, man.”

“It’s Marco, and thanks. I’ll pay you back someday.” The freckled boy gave Jean one last brilliant smile before walking out into the dark street. Jean glanced at his watch to see it was now three; he just wasted two hours talking to the stranger.

“I’m sure you will Marco. I’m sure you will.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean doesn't even try to hate him anymore. Freckles are too cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like its pretty sloppily written so I may have to go back, but got some Marco insight in this chapter.. Getting to the good stuff

Classes the next day where hell for Jean. His shift ended at seven, but Ymir hadn’t relieved him until eight with some bullshit excuse about Christa. It normally wouldn’t have bothered him, but he hadn’t slept in over 24 hours and just needed to complain.

    To make matters worse he couldn’t focus in class. That stupid boy with those stupid fucking freckles invaded Jean’s thoughts all day. He kept getting grouchier and grouchier because of his distraction.  

    Jean couldn’t help but notice he knew absolutely nothing about Marco except that he was friends with Armin, which wasn’t a big help. He hadn’t paid enough attention to notice that he had basically told the stranger everything about himself, without asking for anything in return. Jean felt like an asshole, but he knew he was so he brushed the thought away.

    _Maybe if he comes back tonight, I’ll ask him_ , Jean thought to himself. The thought made him feel a little bit better, and maybe a little bit excited for his shift tonight.

    The day was extra long after that, the thought constantly resurfacing and causing Jean to look at the clock.

    Wednesdays were all English courses, and he praised whatever gods there were for that. Jean had refused to take any mathematics his first year of college because he wanted to take a break, a choice he was seriously regretting now that he had to take Calculus in his sophomore year after not having any math for a while. But English, English he could do.

    Armin was in Journalism with Jean. They sat next to each other because of an agreement to always work on projects together; Armin might be too good to say no to a slacker wanting to be his partner, but it didn’t mean he liked it.

    Jean fidgeted nervously, trying not to glance at the blond next to him. He clicked his teeth together to keep himself from talking and making an utter fool out of himself. All Jean wanted was to know more about Marco. For the first time in a long while he didn’t care about his school work but instead wanted to study the strange boy.

    But the boy didn’t matter, passing his class and proving his parents wrong did! Jean bit down on his pencil in frustration but winced at pain, thinking for a moment he broke a couple teeth. He looked up to see Armin staring at him quizzically, but Jean’s sneer kept him from asking any questions. When Armin turned away Jean quickly felt his teeth to confirm they were all there.

"Hey Jean," Armin said as they started packing up at the end of class, "we're having a little party on Friday. Would you like to come?"

"By we do you mean Eren too."

"Well, um, yeah."

"I'll think about it." Jean turned on his heel and left then, there was no way he was going to that party with Jaeger there.

    Jean had ten minutes before his shift started when he reached the diner, so he took a power nap. It was the first time he had slept in days, and he was just hoping to make it through the night without passing out.

    Sasha was the one to wake him up, shouting at him that she needed staff to serve her delicious food. Jean bit back a retort and punched in, sleepily dragging his feet around. They may not always get along, but in the workplace they were a team and a damn good one.

    Orders flew out of the kitchen and onto the tables in record time until the dinner rush was over. They passed the time after that singing, throwing flour at each other, and frying everything in sight. After Jean bit into a lock of fried hair he decided that they were done with that for the night. Sasha put up a bit of a fight, but she couldn’t form a good argument with the tears in her eyes from cackling.

    At midnight the music from the radio began to feel too loud. The coffee pots were empty, and even Sasha was having trouble moving around the kitchen with her feet dragging. She mumbled lyrics in between taking bites out of a whole loaf of bread while Jean stared at the coffee pot waiting for it to brew. He hoped that the power of his death stare would scare it into boiling.

    The door jingled, but Jean refused to look up and face the world until he was fully awake.

    “I’m sure you know that since you don’t have laser eyes that will never work.”

    Jean, startled by the voice, looked up to see the freckled boy from the night before. He felt a slight blush on his cheeks from being caught.

    “I was hoping sheer willpower would do the trick,” he mumbled in an attempt to save himself.

    “I don’t think the world quite works that way.”

    “I think sometimes it does.”

    Marco’s smile at the retort was just as breathtaking as the night before when he replied. “Yes, sometimes it does. Sometimes it does.”

    Jean watched as the brown eyes unfocused for a moment, as if following a totally different trail of thought almost out of reach, but they came back to Jean just as quickly.

    “Would you mind if I had some of that famous hot cocoa again?”

    “As long as you don’t mind paying, I have a coworker who is actually awake this time.” Jean sent Marco a wink, immediately regretting it a second later when a blush bloomed underneath the freckles. _What if he got the wrong idea and doesn’t realize how hated he was?_

    But Marco laughed and brushed it off. “Well that does put a damper on the situation, but I would pay a million for another cup of that!”

    It was Jean’s turn to blush, but he was able to hide it by scampering off into the kitchen. Sasha caught it though.

    “Ooohh who is Mr. Freckled Hottie?”

    “His name is Marco, and he is not a hottie.”

    Sasha pretended to think for a minute and peeked through the window at him. “Yeah he’s more of a Freckled Cutie. Does have the Tall, Dark, and Mysterious vibe going on though.”

    Jean peeked at the boy too while he stirred in the mix. “Are you kidding me? That CPA couldn’t hurt a fucking fly.”

    Sasha almost choked. “Did you just say CPA? You fucking like him, OH MY GOD!”

She started flailing around, and Marco chose that fucking moment to look up. His eyebrows knit together as Jean lunged for Sasha and tackled her to the floor. Sasha didn’t even try to hold back her laughter, even when Jean had covered her mouth.

“I don’t fucking like him. I fucking hate the shit’s guts,” Jean growled.

“Moh humph fud hmm!” Sasha screamed against his hand, eyebrows raised far more than should be possible.

“What?”

Sasha licked his palm, causing him to quickly retract his hand in disgust. “I saaidd, more like you want to fuck him.”

She shot him an over the top wink and Jean tried his best to look as grumpy as he could, but the thought hadn’t bothered him as much as he would like.

“Shuudup. Now I’m going to deliver this and you are not going to say a word,” Jean snarled. He adjudgested his once-starched white shirt, grabbed the mug and went back into the dining room. He could still hear Sasha giggling, and could feel her brain working up a plan to force the two together. Connie will hear about it in no time.

“Here’s your cocoa.” Jean slammed the mug down on the counter in front of Marco. He seemed a little taken aback, but Jean brushed it off.

“Oh um, thanks.” He took a sip right away this time instead of asking questions, trying his hardest not to look dejected. It was Jean who spoke next.

“What brings you here tonight? It can’t just be my amazing hot chocolate.”

“Sleep doesn’t bode that well with me. I prefer to do as much as I can in a day, which includes drinking the best beverages around,” Marco smiled.

    “Sleep and I don’t get along either, but it’s more of an it avoiding me relationship.”

    “See I prefer avoiding it.” Jean looked up from the Marco’s mug to see the freckled boy looking down too. His long lashes caught in his eye brows when he blinked and his lips were slightly pursed, but when Jean started to ask why Marco interrupted him with another smile.

    “How were classes today? You look dead on your feet!”

    “Boring and useless as usual,” Jean said, but then remembered his vow from earlier that day. “How were yours? You never told me what you were going into.”

    “Therapy. I want to help kids overcome mental illnesses and disabilities.”

    “Very noble,” Jean said sarcastically, but he truly meant it. Marco seemed to catch on to the hidden message and blushed softly while trying not to smile.

    “Well I’m not doing it for that!” he stuttered. Jean smirked, relishing in making the boy uncomfortable.

    “Oh I know Marco, you’re too good for that.”

    Marco’s face suddenly dropped into a confused frown. “H-how would you?”

    “Please! You look and act like an angel. You are truly going to help kids, not for the glory of it, but to help improve their lives.”

    They both blushed now, looking down at their feet.

    “Th-thanks Jean.”

    “Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t mention it. If anyone heard I said something nice I would lose my reputation.”

    “Too late!” Sasha called from the kitchen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Feel free to comment if I made any mistakes or anything, I would really appreciate some feedback.   
> I love everyone who reads this, you are all fantastic   
> Come say hi on tumblr:
> 
> imightbejehan.tumblr.com  
> adorkabletitans.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parties are fun until they get too intimate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry.. short chapter (only three pages in word/drive) but i have a lot on my plate right now!

Friday crept up on Jean so much faster than he thought. It may have been the fact that he couldn't remember what day it was after they all blurred together.

Armin was the one who brought him back to reality. He texted Jean that morning to confirm that he was indeed still coming. Armin knew Jean's habit of working and leaving absolutely no time for socializing, and even when he had time he never went out, so he tried his best to get Jean out of his house.

    If Jean was being honest, he wouldn’t have usually gone. He would have made up some bullshit excuse about working even though he worked all day to get his overtime in. Fridays were Jean’s favorite because no classes were in session and he knew Levi would take advantage of his willingness to work 24/7.

    But there was the chance that Marco would be there. Of course Jean hadn’t actually asked him, but he remembered Marco mentioning being friends with Armin. He hoped the kind of friends that would recommend places to eat were the kind of friends whose parties you went to.

    The boy had been a constant bother. He bombarded Jean’s thoughts when he tried to focus at school and got in the way of his usual one o’clock naptime with his fucking hot cocoa and small talk.

    It had been three days in a row. Three days of dazzling smiles, freckles like stars, and no sleep. Jean thought he was dying.

But somehow he loved every minute of it. Not everyone liked Jean. Sure they might think his bluntness is funny, for the first hour. Sasha and Connie had stuck with him since high school, but even they got tired of his bullshit sometimes. Jean didn't mind being so alone; at least that's what he had thought.

Then Marco turned up and _tried_. He laughed at the shitty jokes and shitty comments and Jean didn't hate himself so much when he left.

But Marco was still a piece of shit for wrecking Jean's peace, and Jean kept that in mind as he looked around the crowded room packed with sweaty bodies.

The freckled boy wasn’t in sight yet, but Jean figured the ‘dancing’ wasn’t really his scene, so he made his way to the kitchen.

By the time he fell into the brightly lit room Jean felt violated: he had been groped at least seven times, slobbered on once in what he thought was supposed to be a kiss, and humped on eleven separate occasions.

    _If this is how the rest of the fucking night is gonna be I’m leaving now._

    Jean spotted a second exit, giving up on finding the CPA and rushing to his freedom. At least until he slammed into a huge boulder, also know as Marco.

    Jean was used to being separated by the counter, so he never realized how wide the freckled boy’s shoulders were and how Marco was a few inches taller, which Jean would never admit out loud.

    “Hey Jean! I had no idea you would be here!” Marco had his hands on Jean’s forearms from steadying him, so he felt Jean’s shiver at his name coming out of the other boys mouth _correctly._

    _I would like to hear you screaming my- HOLY FUCK!_ Jean internally screamed at his thoughts, jumping away from Marco with wide, startled eyes.

    “Whoa, are you okay?” Marco asked, stepping closer while Jean backed up again.

    “Oh, uh, yeah I’m fine! I’m just a little startled from running into Mr. Rock.”

    _Wow smooth, Jean._

    “Yeah I’ve always been a little big,” Marco giggled nervously, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck.

    “Nah man,” Jean poked the boys chest, “it’s all muscle.”

    Briefly Jean imagined what that chest would look like without the blue t-shirt pulled across it, but then quickly backtracked. Marco was blushing profusely, his freckles blending with the pink, and was most definitely _not_ adorable because Jean didn’t find anyone fucking adorable.

"Um, yeah, so you want something to drink?" Marco asked, saving Jean and himself from anymore awkward silence.

"Sure! Sure," Jean said, following Marco to a cooler and grabbing out a beer. He noticed that Marco didn't drink and for a moment felt self conscious before mumbling, "Fuck it!" and taking a huge gulp.

He didn't _always_ get trashed, only on occasion. Jean preferred to watch how idiotic people got the more they drank, when he actually went out to parties at least. Tonight though, he wanted to at least ease up.

    They talked about nothing for hours, sipping at their drinks. Occasionally Armin would stop by and peek in Marco’s cup, smile up at the freckled boy, pat his back, and leave. Others came and went too, with their own hellos and hugs, but Jean praised whatever gods there were that Eren Fucking Jaeger didn’t show up. He had his suspicions that it was Armin keeping him out of the kitchen.

    Their conversation ended up leading them outside to give their voices and ears a rest.

    It was much quieter and colder under the stars. The spring wind was enough to force the two to bury their necks under the collars. The ground was too wet to lay down upon, so the boys sat on the steps.

    “You and Armin pretty close?” Jean asked.

    Marco shrugged, his entire body moving. “I guess so. He’s like a brother that I think I don’t really need, but I appreciate him looking out for me.”

    “Armin? Looking out for you? You are like twice his size!” Jean exclaimed. “Arlert couldn’t hurt a fly.”

    “You’re right,” Marco frowned into his cup, swishing it around. He was supposed to smile at Jean’s joke, but the comment had seemed to depress the boy. “I should be able to take care of myself.”

    With a heavy sigh he chucked the plastic cup across the manicured lawn.

    “Why can’t I fucking take care of myself!” Marco screamed, tears in his eyes. He turned to Jean, mumbling, "I’m sorry.” Before storming back inside, slamming the screen door behind him. Jean had no idea what Marco was sorry for, but by the look in his eyes he knew it wasn’t for the sudden outburst.

    “I’m not drunk enough for this shit,” Jean muttered, downing the rest of his beer can.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! If you have any suggestions feel free to comment! I love you all!!!!  
> Also, stop by my tumblr and say hi or have jeanmarco convos with me *wink wink*  
> ace-ohearts.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loneliness often leads to jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I had to write some jealous Jean...   
> Getting to Jean figuring out somethings up with Marco!

Marco was nowhere to be seen for three days.

Jean tried not to think about it and the boy’s wild outburst at the party, but without his distraction during the midnight shifts Jean had plenty of time to think about what he might have done wrong.

Sasha and Connie tried to keep him distracted like always, but it didn’t stop Jean from jumping in excitement every time the door opened. By the time the freckled boy actually came, Jean had almost given up.

He was writing, fervently trying to finish his short story essay when a hand came and yanked the paper out from under him. When he looked up half of Marco’s face peeked out at him from behind the crinkled lined paper.

Jean snatched it back, laughing, but it caught in his throat when he saw Marco’s full face.

One half of it had lost its color, nearly as white as the paper that had covered it instead of the natural olive tone of the rest of Marco’s body. His eye was duller, lacking its shine that smiling usually brought it, and his eyebrow was thinner.

Jean coughed and blinked rapidly. “What happened man?”

“Oh,” Marco blushed and looked at the counter, “nothing really.”

“Like hell.” Jean started to reach out, but when Marco looked up at him he quickly retracted his hand. Marco grabbed onto it tightly, looking at Jean with tears in his eyes.

“Please just leave it be for now. I’ll tell you soon.”

“O-okay,” Jean stuttered, looking down at their hands. Marco smiled softly and brought them down to the table, but didn’t let go. So neither did Jean.

“So I guess you finished your poem?” Marco asked, reaching for the paper again with his other hand. This time Jean let him. The other boy’s movements were slow and twitchy, like he didn’t have full control over it.

“Yeah, actually had to do a reading too, but my teacher seemed to like it. I did fuck up halfway through and had to pretend that stuttering was part of my performance. I must have succeeded because I got a lot of snaps.”

Marco laughed and his entire body shook.

_God I missed that._

Jean blushed at his thoughts, but Marco didn’t notice because Sasha had come out of the kitchen.

“AYYE! Is that Prince Freckles I here out there?” She called as she ran out the kitchen door.

Marco dropped Jean’s hand and spread his arms out wide. “The one and only!”

Sasha practically jumped over the counter to give him a kiss on the cheek, giggling uncontrollably.

“I’m so glad you came, it was getting a little too hard to deal with Mr. Mopey over here.”

“Hey!” Jean protested, but the two brushed him off in favor of talking about some TV show. Jean blinked, watching how his friends, whom he had thought didn’t even know each other; act like they were best friends. “Um, I didn’t know you guys were so close.”

“Oh, I guess we are!” Marco laughed, looking back at Jean.

“He’s been coming into the day shifts lately, and I let him back in the kitchen when it got slow. Did you know he’s a really good cook?” Sasha jumped up and down excitedly. Jean blinked rapidly, not really comprehending what was going on. When he didn’t respond the two jumped back into a conversation that had nothing to do with him.

Jean tried not to be jealous, he really did, but it was impossible. Sasha knew he had some sort of feelings for the boy; hell it was her that said he loved Marco.

_What kind of fucking game is Sasha playing?_

While they weren’t paying attention Jean snuck into the kitchen to go make hot chocolate, but slumped on the wall.

He felt his face with shaking hands. It felt like it was one fire. He knew he needed to calm down, but Jean was pissed. Sasha had no right. She was on his side!

_It’s supposed to be Marco and me, not anyone else!_

The scream inside his head shook Jean out into reality.

_Fuck I really am in love with him._

He knew he had just been denying it, but he couldn’t anymore. Now he was losing the boy to Sasha of all people. Jean sighed. At least he could make a better cup of hot cocoa than Sasha, about the only thing he had going for him.

When Jean came back into the dining room Marco and Sasha’s foreheads were practically touching while they whispered and giggled. Marco’s cheeks were blazing, and Sasha’s eyes were glinting like they did when she was up to something.

Jean stalked over to them and slammed to mug on the table, spilling a little on his story. The pair jumped apart. If it was even possible, Jean swore Marco’s face got even redder.

“I know you didn’t order it, but figured you might want it. Unless you would rather have something of Sasha’s,” he snarled.

“No! Um, thank you.” Marco blinked, wide eyed and surprised. Sasha scoffed and shoved Jean into the counter as she made her way back to the kitchen.

They sat in silence for a minute before Jean got the courage to talk again and knew it wasn’t going to sound incredibly angry.

“So why have you been coming in during the day?”

“I’ve had to eliminate some classes, so I have tons more free time during the day. Since I know you guys here I figured I’d visit when Armin was in class!”

“Oh, I mean I guess that makes sense.” Jean wanted to ask why he had to drop out of classes, but he figured Marco would tell him if it was necessary.

“And I’ve been way too tired to come for your shifts, Jean. I’m really sorry…” Marco trailed off, swirling his half drunk mug around.

“That’s fine! I mean I was just worried,” Jean rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sort out what thoughts were okay to say. “I didn’t know what happened to you - I mean I’m just so used to you being around and all.”

Marco smiled and Jean couldn’t really be angry at him anymore.

“I missed you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Feel free to comment if I made any mistakes or anything, I would really appreciate some feedback.  
> I love everyone who reads this, you are all fantastic  
> Come say hi on tumblr:
> 
> ace-ohearts.tumblr.com  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are better left in the open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides in the corner* IM SO SORRY 
> 
> i know this has been a while, and it's super short, but i've been busy. 
> 
> it was important for it to end the way it did too, so i hope you like it! hopefully a longer chapter is coming up.... maybe these two lovebirds will actually get together

They met up for lunch after Jean finally managed to ask Marco for his number. He was trying to tell himself that Marco didn’t think it was a date, but Jean really, really wished it was.

    They got along like usual, but Jean could tell there was something off about his friend. Marco picked at his french fries, mainly using them to play with the ketchup. His laughter seemed forced sometimes, his body not fully into it.

    Finally, in the middle of one of Jean’s stories about fighting with Jaeger, Marco interrupted.

    “I have something I should tell you, Jean.”

    Jean braced himself for the speech “you’re a great guy, but a total asshole, so we can’t be friends”.

    “I’m dying.”

    Jean spit out his water, spraying Marco in the face. “WHAT?”

    The freckled boy let out a small laugh and wiped his face. “I guess I deserved that for being so dramatic. What I mean to say is that I have cancer.”

    “And it’s deadly?” Jean choked out.

    “Most are.”

    “But-”

    “I only wanted to tell you because that’s why I look like this.” Marco gestured at the half of his face that was practically colorless. “It’s causing me to lose pigment in my skin, and since I consider you my friend I wanted you to know why I will look freaky from here on out.”

    “You don’t look like a freak!” Jean spat out without thinking. He blushed, but the other boy’s smile was enough to make him not regret it.

    “That’s very kind of you, but it’s not even done. It will get a lot worse; at least that’s what the doctors say.”

    “How long?”

    “How long have I had it or how long do I have? I’ve had it for a year now, that I’ve know of, as for how long I have? No idea.”

    “Oh.” Jean was trying not to sound so pitiful, but he had come to think of Marco as his best friend and now he just might lose him.

    “That’s why I wanted to tell you! I don’t know what else this will effect, or how long I’ll be able to really be a friend, so you might want to get out of this now.”

    “Get out? What do you mean get out?”

    “You don’t need to feel like you have to be friends with me because I have cancer, and I don’t ever want to hurt you-any of my friends.”

    “Getting a little cocky here?” Jean smirked. “Who said I was going to cry at your funeral?”

    The other boy sat back suddenly, surprised, before he burst out laughing. “I guess you’re right then. No harm done!”

    They went back to their normal conversation then, less stiff but still holding something back along the edges.

    The boys parted ways after an hour, going to their separate classes.

   

As soon as Jean entered the classroom Armin stopped him.

    “So he told you,” he stated.

    “Uh, yeah. Like ten minutes ago, how did you fucking know?”

    “He texted me.” Armin said it like it was obvious. It wasn’t.

    “Why the fuck would he text you that?” If Armin had known the whole time, Jean thought he could kill someone.

    “Because it’s a very sensitive subject to him. Marco doesn’t tell anyone he doesn’t feel should know so he doesn’t cause drama. Don’t let him convince you that this isn’t a big deal, Jean. He’s sick.”

    “Yeah, I get that.”

    “I hope you do because you mean a lot to him.”

    Jean felt immediately less angry, but the brief happiness was filled with doubt.

    “Really? I mean, like, we hardly even know each other so I wouldn’t expect him to think highly of me or anything.”

    Armin smiled brightly. “Don’t worry; he talks about you all the time. I haven’t seen him this happy since we were kids. Just don’t screw it up, okay?”

    Jean couldn’t even form words as the blond bounced away.

    Marco talked about him. Marco was happy because of him. Marco cared about him.

Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh okay i need to say a few things:   
> 1\. i made up his cancer. i did no research and just made up something that fits my needs  
> 2\. i know it's hella lame  
> 3\. im having a writers block
> 
> SO!! if you guys wanna talk or say some cute things you want to happen hit me up
> 
> ace-ohearts.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who needs rest when there are cute freckled boys in the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally supposed to be longer, and i already have a couple more pages written, but it flows a lot better and i don't want to bombard you guys!
> 
> but hey the next update will come super soon since its half done!

Jean was exhausted. He may be used to running on hardly any sleep, but that doesn't mean it never took a toll.

So he thanked whatever deities existed when he flopped down on his unmade bed on Saturday at five in the morning that there were no classes for a few days after mid-semester exams. It was the first time in a month that it would get some actual use.

Marco had stayed with him from midnight till four, and Jean was beginning if the boy was on drugs. He never seemed to sleep, but it never showed on the dark skinned boy.

Jean buried himself under a pillow, groaning. _Of course_ the boy was on drugs, he had fucking cancer.

Jean was suddenly awake then. He knew nothing about Marco's cancer. Marco had been open about it sure, but Jean hadn't even thought to ask many questions about it due to his shock. So Marco remained just as big of a mystery as when Jean first met him, except with a few more puzzle pieces.

He plugged in his headphones, deciding the mystery that is Marco could wait a few more hours.

 

Buzzing on his phone woke him up. It lay on Jean's chest, shocking his body awake when it went off.

It was his mother, wishing him good luck a week late.

_Every fucking time._

Jean chucked the phone across the room, trying not to let his parents get to him, but he was tired of the shit they pulled.

They weren't terrible as far as parents go, but they didn't really love him. Or at least they had a crappy way of showing it.

He learned his way home from every building in town by the age of ten because of all the times they forgot him, and never picked him up. His birthday fell on a different day every year, but Jean gave them credit for remembering he actually had one.

Jean took advantage of his parents absence as he grew older. Didn't come to parent teacher conferences? That was fine, he just didn't go to school. They never locked the liqueur cabinet, so Jean never went thirsty even if they were home. He didn't have to worry about them judging his friends or style choices because as far as they were concerned, Jean Kirstien hardly existed at all.

But they never beat him, they were paying for half of his tuition (sometimes on time), and always remembered to send presents, even if they were two months late.

So he sucked it up and used what he could from them. As far as any of Jean's friends were concerned his parents didn't exist. Only Connie and Sasha knew, having been over to the house in their high school days.

He fell asleep again; waking up several hours later only because his stomach was telling Jean it was time to eat.

As he heated up a Japanese Ramen in the microwave, Jean checked his phone messages.

Sasha and Connie had started a group text about going to a club that night since Hanji had taken over the cooking shift for the night, which had left about fifty unread messages to sort through. Jean didn't even bother reading them, instead just sent a short reply saying he couldn't go, which was met by sad, crying emojis.

After letting the Ramen soak for a minute per directions, he dumped it in a salad bowl. He liked to think he was classy enough to at least act like he wasn't homeless.

There was nothing good on TV at one in the afternoon, mainly reruns of True Life and History Channel documentaries, which Jean was sure as hell not going to watch. So he slurped up the burning noodles and plugged in Assassins Creed II and opened a new file, since he had already beaten it before and didn't have enough money to buy IV, and Jean didn't like III enough to play it again.

In the middle of trying to race to the roof of the church, Jean's phone buzzed again. He peeked at the screen quickly, expecting to see Sasha again, but CPA flashed on the lock screen.

Jean immediately dropped the controller as Ezio fell off the building, and lunged for the phone.

 **CPA:** what time is your shift tonight

 **Jean:** dont hav one today

It took a while for Marco to reply, so Jean busied himself with shutting down the game and putting his dishes away. Which didn't really mean cleaning, but instead just leaving his bowl in the sink for later.

 **CPA:** oh, well then would you like to do something tonight?

He didn't know what to do. Jean desperately wanted to hang out more with Marco, but he didn't want their relationship to get weird. He had a habit of fucking up friendships and now that Marco trusted him enough to tell him about being sick Jean was even more scared.

There was also the fact that they were just friends, and Jean wanted so much more. He didn't want Marco to figure out his feelings and the relationship to get uncomfortable.

Another text buzzed in while Jean was thinking.

 **CPA:** we don’t have to! only if you want, and you aren’t too tired.

 **CPA:** I’m sure you have stuff to do anyways

 **CPA:** sorry!

Jean smiled despite himself. He wasn’t quite convinced by Armin’s speech about Marco, but he did seem to make the boy somewhat nervous.

He imagined what Marco looked like: burning red cheeks, and his head down. Jean knew that he would occasionally look up at Jean, but would get too nervous at Jean’s neutral expression he always wore.

He couldn’t help but think it was adorable.

 **Jean:** love to!

 **Jean:** was washing dishes sorry

 Marco texted back immediately, asking what he would like to do. After some debate they decided to go to the movies at three at the Trost Theater since they were doing a special showing of silent movies.

Jean didn’t waste any time once the conversation ended. He rushed to the shower to clean off his sleep sweat, then took a good half hour to pick out an outfit that would look nice but not too put together Marco would get suspicious.

He immediately regretted only buying one pair of pants and three sweatshirts in that past two years.

His t-shirts were ratty and he knew that somewhere was a presentable button up and unstained jeans. Finally he pulled out jeans that not only didn’t have any rips, didn’t smell like piss. A MCR shirt with minimal damage to it completed his look. He made sure to get all the extra cash and change from the jar on his dresser, determined to pay for Marco’s ticket.

On his way out the door, Jean debated whether or not to grab a jacket and decided it might be for the best, since movie theaters could get cold. He tucked his worn leather jacket underneath his sleeve and headed towards the bus station just down the block.

It had warmed up since Marco first walked into the diner. It was nearing April now, which meant the snow was long gone and rain was fast approaching. Jean was happy for that, since he liked the rain much better than the snow.

Some people were running or walking their dogs as he neared the bus stop. He knew he didn’t live in a terrible neighborhood, but it was smashed in between the nice part of town and the slums. In order to avoid the ghetto, most people stayed out of Jean’s neighborhood, which he was grateful for.

Once on the bus Jean checked his phone every few seconds, waiting for the text from Marco, but it never came by the time he reached the theater.

He couldn’t see the tall boy anywhere in the lobby when he walked in, so Jean quickly paid for two and waited by the games where Marco would easily be able to see him.

It didn’t take long before Marco’s freckled face popped through the door. Jean waved wildly, drawing a loud laugh from the other boy.

 As Marco neared Jean held out the tickets and watched his face twist into surprise.

“Y-you didn’t need to!” Marco stuttered.

“No shit. I wanted to. Now lets get some popcorn before we find some seats.”

They paid for one monster bucket of popcorn and each bought separate candies, not planning to share, but as soon as they sat down they started devouring each other’s sweets.

As soon as soon as the previews started Marco looked down at the half empty popcorn bucket.

“I eat ten times more popcorn before the movie than during,” he whispered.

Jean smirked and nodded in agreement as the movies started to play. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel Jean on a deep emotional level in this chapter tbh 
> 
> hope you liked it, i don't have a beta (which you can probably tell) so if you have any comments go ahead!  
> if you are interested in beta'ing or just wanna talk about how much snk has ruined your life hit me up on 
> 
> ace-ohearts.tumblr.com 
> 
> loveyouall


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody wants the date to end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are all amazing so i'm uploading this early I LOVE YOU ALL

“Man,” Jean said, stretching as the light came on again, “I have never actually seen a silent movie before, but that was great!”

Marco looked up at him, stunned. “How can you have never seen a silent movie? They are classics! I have sets of them at home at my parent’s house. They are big film geeks.”

The blond just shrugged and let Marco pull him out of the theater, babbling about how somehow they were going to have a marathon because the showcase they just watched didn’t have the actual best films, which really meant it didn’t show Marco’s favorites.

As they walked out into the lobby Jean noticed what Marco’s shirt said underneath his sweatshirt.

“Holy shit Marco, your shirt.”

“Huh? I-“ Marco looked down then back up at Jean, and burst out laughing. “I can’t believe it!”

Underneath Marco’s red hoodie was the same exact shirt Jean was wearing. Who would have been embarrassed, but he had just found out Marco was even cooler than he originally thought.

Marco’s black My Chemical Romance shirt was in much better condition than Jean’s but there was no denying that it was the same.

“They were my favorite!”

“Don’t say “were”, it’s still a sensitive subject,” Jean hushed the other boy.

They stood laughing for a bit, but lapsed into an awkward silence. Both the boys shuffled their feet, but made no move to leave. Jean was glad that Marco didn’t want to stop hanging out with him.

 _“I haven’t seen him this happy since we were kids,”_ Armin’s words played in Jean’s head again. He was starting to believe that just maybe he was just as important to Marco, as the boy was to him.

“I was thinking, um, since it’s about dinner time anyways that you may want to join me for dinner?” Jean asked.

Marco’s smile lit up his face again, contagious as always. “That sounds great! I’m starving; I guess popcorn doesn’t really fill me up.”

“How about we head to the Buffalo Wild Wings across the street?”

“Perfect!”

They made their way to the restaurant and we seated almost immediately, just barely beating the dinner rush.

Jean tried to get Marco to order the hottest wings on the menu, who almost gave in but the waitress convinced him not to with horror stories.

“She is so not getting a tip,” Jean grumbled as she left.

As they talked Jean assessed Marco. He looked better, considering he was all smiles and laughs, but the closer Jean looked he could see that Marco was having a hard time.  

He didn’t show it very much, but when he reached for his water glass with his left hand it wouldn’t close so he would be forced to use his other hand. Jean could tell he was embarrassed, so he pretended not to notice it.

The pale skin wasn’t as noticeable, but Jean did catch some people staring. He hated how it made Marco look like a fucking animal in a zoo, but the freckled boy didn’t show any signs of noticing.

To make sure that he didn’t, Jean kept the conversation on Marco. It finally gave him the chance to find more out about the other boy.

Marco was the middle child, with an older sister and younger brother. His dad was a doctor while his mom was retired in order to take care of the kids. Marco explained that they were planning on travelling after his younger brother went to college.

He had been to Europe twice, unlike Jean who may have a decent amount of money but had never been outside the states. Marco could speak Spanish and French, and could read kana though he said he wasn’t practiced enough to be able to read anything else Japanese.

Apparently he was in the same year as Jean because of his cancer treatments. They tended to make him sick for days, so his parents had figured out a plan to keep his classes to a minimum, even though it would take longer to graduate.

Hearing stories about how fun the Bodt’s were as the boys munched on wings made Jean feel jealous. He knew it was stupid to wish that maybe his parents would care a little bit more and Marco’s would care a little bit less, but it was part of his personality and also why he didn’t have very many friends. Jean could only keep the people around who were either just as fucked up as him, or could partially understand why he was so unfriendly.

Jean also knew that Marco deserved to have the best life possible, and as angry as he was at his own parents Jean was more angry at the universe for cursing Marco with an illness that he may not survive.

Of course he did not voice this. Jean did not want Marco to have to think about that, he just wanted him to be happy.

They finished all too soon, so Marco ordered a dessert to share.

Jean had never had a Buffalo Wild Wings dessert before since he didn’t like spending the money for it, and didn’t go very often anyways, but as soon as he bit into the chocolate cake Jean was in heaven.

“Uh muh gohd,” Jean mumbled around the cake, swallowing quickly before continuing. “I think I’m having an orgasm.”

Marco choked on his bite, spitting it into his napkin. His eyes were wide as he looked at Jean with the worst blush he had seen yet.

“ _Jean_!”

Jean blushed realizing what he had just said, but instead of yelling at him Marco burst out laughing.

“It-it really wasn’t that funny-” Jean tried to save, but Marco wasn’t having it.

“But your _face_!”

People were staring for a whole different reason now, leaving Jean so embarrassed he dropped his head into his hands. It didn’t stop Marco though; who actually had to go to the bathroom to compose himself after laughing so hard he started to cry.

It wasn’t that it was actually funny; it was just that Marco was just so damn innocent.

Jean tried to pay for his half, but Marco refused, waving his offer away by explaining that since Jean had paid for the tickets he could pay for the meal.

It was dark when they went outside, and Jean did not want to wait at the station. But he parted ways with Marco, heading down the street while the other boy walked to the movie theater parking lot to where Jean supposed his car was.

As he was walking away, he heard Marco cry out, but the wind snatched the words from Jean’s ears. He turned back around to see Marco standing at the entrance to the parking lot and gesturing in.

“What did you say?” Jean asked when he walked closer.

“I asked if you would like a ride home? It seems that you don’t have a car, and the bus doesn’t come for another half hour, so I though maybe?”

“Oh, yeah. That sounds great actually.” Jean bit his lip, but follow him to a sleek, but slightly used car. He didn’t want to take advantage of Marco’s kindness, but he didn’t really want to wait for the bus. So he would definitely take advantage of Marco.

“You will have to direct me though, and be pretty detailed because I’m terrible with directions.”

“We’ll take it step by step okay?” Jean laughed.

Marco smiled over at him. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Um, so turn right at the light up here.” Jean turned back up to the front. He had never blushed so much in his life as he did when he was around Marco. He hated it. There was something about Marco’s happiness that was contagious but Jean had spent the majority of his life being angry. This was a completely new feeling that he couldn’t quite get used to.

 

After a little bit of struggling, the boys made it to Jean’s apartment safely.

“Thank you, for today and giving me a ride,” Jean said unlocking the door to get out. As he turned Marco reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Jean, um,” he bit his lip, struggling to say something before just mumbling, “Fuck it.”

Their lips collided, messily and swiftly. When Marco pulled back he was entirely breathless, but Jean was in an even worse state.

Jean sat frigid, staring wide-eyed at the boy across from him with a wildly beating heart. He didn’t breathe; he had forgotten how. But then everything was in motion again and the world sped up and they were kissing again.

If it had been with anyone else Jean would have said that it was a terrible kiss. It was messy and they were hardly ever in sync, but it held all the passion and need that they had kept pent up for weeks now.

It ended too soon when they lost all the air from their lungs. Jean settled his forehead on Marco’s and closed his eyes, trying to regain the ability to think.

They stayed that way for a few minutes before Jean pulled away and kissed Marco tentatively on his lips, whispering goodnight.

When he reached the door he may have struggled with the key with shaking hands, and to get up the steps with wobbling legs. So when he got into his room Jean fell face down onto his bed, and began to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never imagined that i would have some many views or such a nice response to a dumb fic I came up with one day in school  
> I hope you like this chapter :)
> 
> say hey at ace-ohearts.tumblr.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't always go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is so little jeanmarco in this chapter i don't even know what to do
> 
> IM SORRY

    Though they never actually came out and said it: Jean and Marco started dating. They didn’t even know it themselves, but their friends did.

    Jean never heard the end of it from Connie and Sasha during shifts. Whoever was working would come up with excuses to leave with an exaggerated wink as they left.

    They got over the embarrassment after the first few times by busying themselves with kisses and once Connie and Sasha knew the two weren’t embarrassed anymore so they just took to pestering them.

"Man," Marco said one day after Connie had gotten back to work, "I was kind of enjoying the alone time."

"Well, you know that we don't need to be alone." Jean kept his voice neutral but his blush gave him away.

Marco laughed gave him a kiss on the cheek, draping his jacket over himself as he pulled back.

"I should get back before dawn. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" He didn't wait for Jean's response, just headed out the door with a shout to Connie.

"Bye Freckles!" Connie peeked his head in through the kitchen door, but Marco was already gone.

    Jean still didn’t know why Marco had come to his diner at one a.m., until a few weeks after their first kiss.

 

    “Jean?” Armin asked, grabbing the boy’s arm as he walked into Journalism.

    “Ya?”

    “I want you to tell Marco to stop coming to the diner so late at night.”

    “Why the fuck would I do that?” Jean spun around to face Armin, ready to fight, but the expression on the shorter boy’s face stopped him.

    “You care about him right? I do too, and I need you to do what’s best for him right now.”

    “Wh-why? What’s wrong? Marco hasn’t told me that the cancer had gotten any worse.”

    “Of course he wouldn’t,” Armin dropped his hand from Jean’s sleeve to run it over his face. “Marco wouldn’t want to worry you but, he hasn’t gone to classes in a week. I collect all his assignments and turn them in, the only time he leaves the apartment is to see you. If his body didn’t need more rest then I wouldn’t ask this of you. He doesn’t sleep at all now; he just reads and does his work, so I need you to tell him to get sleep.”

    “Why would he listen to me, but not you? Aren’t you his best friend or something?”

    “We have known each other for a long time, and while we have always been friend we were never as close as you two. He’ll listen to you!”

    “If I tell him to stop coming then what?”

    “What do you mean?” Armin cocked his head to the side.

    “I mean, I can’t just not see him at all-”

    “Oh goodness! That’s not at all what I meant. I don’t want Marco leaving on his midnight walks anymore. Feel free to stop by during the day.”

    “Oh,” Jean whispered, taking a step back from Armin.

    “I expect you to tell him then.” Armin nodded his head in goodbye, but Jean stopped him.

    “Why does he go on walks? He told me before that he doesn’t like to sleep, why is that?”

    Armin smiled sadly. “He’s afraid he’ll never wake up.”

 

    Marco listened and stopped coming to the diner. Jean didn’t know whether he was getting the sleep he should have been, but he did know how fucking lonely he had become. The only good thing was the extra time to do homework.

    His poems for class had become cheesy lines about freckles and wide smiles, but he was beyond caring. He shoved five in his pocket as he left and locked up for the night until Christa came in at 8.

    Jean got the call then.

    He didn’t hang up, he just gripped it tight and ran past the bus stop and didn’t stop.

    The hospital was six blocks away, so by the time Jean got to the reception desk he was out of breath.

    “Mar-co-Bo-dt!” He shouted breathlessly.

    “Are you family sir?” The girl behind the counter asked.

    “Yes!” He didn’t care that he was lying, they were family in his head, and he was going to do whatever he could to get to the room.

    She didn’t look like she believed him, but she told Jean the room number anyways. He knew that she pitied him by the look she gave him as he sprinted for the elevator, but he didn’t give a shit about being pitied if it got him Marco.

Armin and Eren were in the room when he got there. Jean didn't spare a glance towards the two, just crouched right by the bedside where Marco lay passed out.

"He was getting a glass of water, I think. All I heard was a big crash and when I found him he was passed out on the floor soaked and laying in glass shards," Armin spoke up. "He's been like his ever since."

"Why did you call Jaeger of all people first."

"Oh, well I didn't." Armin blushed and Eren draped his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"I was with him dumbass."

Jean didn’t bless him with a reply. Instead he pulled out his phone to text Sasha that he wasn’t going to make it to class the next day, so she should pick up his work. She texted back complaining, but didn’t ask why. He knew that meant a yes in her world.

A dark skinned person walked in then, introducing themself as Doctor Hanji.

“But you can just call me Hanji!” They shouted, pushing up their glasses to the top of their head.

“Yeah okay that’s great but-” Eren started, but Jean interrupted.

“What’s wrong?”

Hanji ignored the two and turned to Armin, not letting the smile slip from their face yet let it soften.

“It seems our original hypothesis was correct. The cancer has stayed on the left, upper side of the body, but as we feared it has started to spread. Much sooner than I had thought, too! I digress though; we need to stop it before it gets to the heart, since it has already begun to affect the lungs.”

“How?”

“Well we can cut him up-”

“Hanji be serious!” Armin retorted.

“I am, of course. What I mean to say is that the best way is to perform a debridement and skin graft on his face, and amputate his left arm up to his shoulder. We may have to graft part of his chest too, but that would be addressed once operating.”

“When do you think he will wake up so we can break the news to him?”

“Oh, it’ll probably be too late by that time.” The boys were silent for a minute, so Hanji spoke up again. “This is a hard decision to make, I will not deny that, but think about how either he will die probably painlessly without any goodbyes or seeing his loved ones again, or he could live handicapped the rest of his live and most likely never be off medicine. I’ll leave you for a while, go see Petra at the reception with your answer.”

“We have to do it,” Jean stated, standing up and turning to face the other two face to face.

“Think about his feelings for a minute! He won’t have a fucking arm, and will constantly be ridiculed for his appearance!” Eren’s voice was dangerously loud, and he moved slightly forward with every word.

“I don’t fucking care! He is going to live.” Jean took the last step forward until their chest almost bumped.

“Get over yourself for a minute and think of the pain he’ll be in for the rest of his life!”

“Stop!” Armin shouted, pushing in between them. “First of all we are in a hospital for goodness sake. Second, I agree with Jean, Eren.”

“What? Why!!”

“Because I know Marco. I am probably the most qualified person except Marco himself to make this decision, so I know that he would not want to give up just because he may have some trouble in the future.”

Eren crossed his arms and pouted at Armin, eyes assessing the blond’s seriousness.

“Okay,” he finally said, “okay, I’ll stand behind you.”

“Well you would have to anyways because I’m the advance directive, and told that I can decide whatever I want.”

Eren and Jean both shoved Armin’s head towards the door. When the shorter boy started to move out of the room, Eren stopped Jean with a hand on his arm.

He didn’t say anything to the other boy, just gave him a soft nod and the tiniest of smiles. Jean appreciated the gesture, even though it came from Jaeger. His heart was pumping wildly in his chest and his thoughts ran with ‘what ifs’.

He was glad that Eren didn’t say anything because he probably would have fucked it up anyways.

 

An hour later Jean watched as Marco was wheeled away from him, hoping that the next time he saw the freckled boy wouldn’t be in a coffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so lame but it was important to put in? 
> 
> ace-ohearts.tumblr.com


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day ;)

            The waiting room was silent, for the most part. People filtered in and out, even Eren left after a while. Jean and Armin were the only constant figures.

            Armin drifted off to sleep at one point, so a nurse brought out some coffee to the boys. It was so watered down that Jean almost spit it out, but he knew he needed the caffeine to stay awake until Marco was out of surgery.

            After Jean had texted Connie and Sasha about the situation, the duo came in a little after seven. Sasha was on the verge of tears, Connie’s arm over her shoulders to comfort her. It wasn’t just Jean that Marco had connected with at the diner.

            At nine Hanji came into the waiting room and pulled Armin away to speak.

            Jean was at limit now. He stood up and paced across the room, but when he got closer to the doctor they pulled Armin into the next room.

            _Goddammit._

            His hands shook and his throat felt like it had closed up. Breathing had been hard ever since Jean first got the call.

            _Marco can’t leave me. He’ll be okay. Marco wouldn’t leave me._

            The more Jean chanted in his head the more empty it felt. This was the most he had ever felt for a person, and he hated himself for being fragile enough to get this broken up about a guy he had just met.

            But it was Marco, and Jean couldn’t imagine not loving him. Even in the beginning when he had told Sasha that he hated the freckled boy he knew deep down he was lying. Jean was a goner as soon as that CPA walked into that diner.

“Okay, thank you Hanji,” Armin was saying as the two walked back into the room. Jean immediately spun on his heel and advanced on Armin.

    “What is it? Is he okay?”

    “The surgery was a success. They had to take off more skin than they thought, so that’s why it took longer than the surgeons had estimated.”

    Jean was so relieved he thought he could faint.

    “Come on then!” He started off towards the doors to the recovery rooms, but Armin grabbed his arm and stopped him.

    “We aren’t allowed in yet. He needs to rest, and anyways, Marco is on enough pain meds that he’s practically in a coma.”

    “No, no I need to see him right now.” Jean’s breathing became quick again, and he began to choke on his own words. “I need to make sure he’s alright!”

    “We can trust the doctor’s judgment on this. What you need is to go get some rest.”

    “You don’t understand!”

    “No Jean,” Armin pulled Jean into a hug, bringing the taller boys head into the curve between his neck and shoulder, “you aren’t in your right mind right now. Marco would be disappointed that you didn’t take care of yourself.”

    Jean shook as a sob wracked his body. It was the first time he was actually able to cry. Armin guided him his car, letting Jean use his sweater as a tissue.

 

    Jean woke up in Armin’s apartment. It was Marco’s too, but without the boy there it didn’t seem true.

    When he sat up and looked around he recognized Marco’s room, and buried himself in the smell of his sheets.

            This wasn’t the first time he had been in his bed, but it certainly was Jean’s first time sleeping in it. The room felt different without the other boy, though it was exactly the same as the last time.

            The walls were a light brown, but posters and picture frames covered the majority of it. There were a few MCR posters, which Jean was irrationally jealous of. There were a few indie bands that Jean had never heard of, but that was Marco for you. Most of the pictures were of him and Armin, but some were of Marco’s family too.

            The freckled boy looked mainly the same as a child, but as he grew older he grew into his baby fat. Jean’s personal favorite was a picture of Marco and Armin in their preteens at what he suspected was a waterpark. The two boys were about the same height, but Armin was on his tiptoes trying to look taller while Marco gave him bunny ears. They were both laughing so hard that Jean could almost hear them.

            He sighed. Often Jean wished that he had known Marco when he was younger. He wondered how different he would be right now if he had had someone by his side when shit hit the fan. But truth be told, Jean was happy that they met at all. He could have never met Marco and gone the rest of his life angry and hating the world.

            Jean buried his head under the pillow again. Now that he knew how much he needed Marco, he is almost taken right from under his grasp. He hated how much time he had wasted hating the other boy, or at least pretending too.

            The door opened then, and Armin popped his head through.

            “Oh good, you’re awake!”

            “Not that I want to be.”

            “We’re heading to the hospital now, we’ve got the go ahead from Hanji.”

            Jean had never gotten out of bed so fast in his life.

 

            He didn’t get nervous until he was walking down the hallway to Marco’s room. Jean slowed down to a crawl, letting Armin pass him and enter the room first.

            He didn’t know what was suddenly stressing him. Marco was alive, fine, and in the next room, yet Jean was hesitating.

            What if’s flooded his head, but since he could find no logical reasoning for them he took a big breath and walked in.

            Marco wasn’t facing him, instead listening to Armin talk about how his mother had reacted to the news. Jean heard him laugh, and it sounded the same as it always did.

            _It’s okay, Marco’s okay. Nothing changed._

            Armin looked up at Jean, causing Marco to turn towards him.

            The skin that had changed was gone, along with his freckles on half of his face. It was more even now, but there were some scars tracing the border where it met his skin. Marco was smiling, or at least was Jean suspected was a smile because it looked more like a wince.

            “Hi, Jean.”

            “Hi, how are you?”

            “Not half bad,” Marco joked, trying to smile again but looked like it caused too much pain.

            “Oh my god, that’s not even funny.” Jean laughed anyways.

            Marco asked him about how he had been since the last time they had seen each other. They kept the conversation off the topic of his cancer and what they would do next.

            Jean watched Marco as they talked. What was left of his arm was bandaged up, and he hardly ever moved. His eyes were sleepy and unfocused half the time, but that was to be expected with all the medicine he was on.

            A petite nurse walked in after an hour, introducing herself as Petra and telling the boys that it was time for Marco’s rest.

            Armin drove Jean home after that, promising he would pick him up the next day to visit again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS i wanted to post this as a valentines gift to everyone because i love you all:)
> 
> there may be more mistakes than usual, so if you see any please point them out
> 
> come talk to me about headcanons and shit   
> ace-ohearts.tumblr.com


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We do the best we can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry not sorry

It was a week before Marco got discharged. Jean hated every minute of it.

            It had been over a week since they had kissed, just as long since they had actually hugged. All Jean had been able to do was hold Marco’s hand and kiss his forehead.

            Marco was in a hell of a lot of pain. He of course never told Jean this, but the blond could tell.

            “Sasha was wondering when her Freckled Prince was coming to visit,” Jean said, handing Marco a water bottle and turning on the TV. He sat down on the couch next to Marco gently so not to disturb the other too much.

            “What’d you say?”

            “I told her to fuck off, that you are my prince.”

            Marco laughed and leaned into him. “I’m being serious!”

            “So am I! Though I did also tell her that you weren’t allowed to do too much activity, and after she threatened to deep fry my phone I promised her that I would bring her over sometime.”

            “You’re such an ass.” Marco let Jean kiss him anyways.

            It was slow and lazy, the exact opposite of their first kiss. They kissed like they had all the time in the world, but Jean still wasn’t sure.

            Marco pulled away first, looking away from Jean as he did. Instead of watching the dumb reality show that was on, Marco was staring out the window. The scarred side of his face was away from Jean, but he couldn’t read the expression on the boy’s face anyways.

            Jean ignored it. Marco had been acting weird lately and spaced out all the time. He also had insane mood swings; one minute he would be all lovey with Jean, then he would take a 180 and push his boyfriend away.

            At first Jean was hurt by it, but he knew Marco, and Marco would snap out of it.

            So he let it go until he heard the boy’s breathing change.

            There were tear tracks running down Marco’s cheek, but his face was blank. The uncovered brown eye stared without emotion.

            “Hey, hey,” Jean whispered, crawling over to sit in front of Marco, “what’s wrong?”

            A sob racked Marco’s weak body and he collapsed into Jean’s chest. Immediately, Jean’s arms wrapped around him.

            “I’m so fucking useless.”

            “No, no-“

            “I should have died on that table-“

            “Don’t you ever say that!” Jean pulled Marco away so he could look him in the face. He had never seen his friend so dejected. “Marco, never say that!”

            “Well why not? I’m never going to do anything with my life now! I can’t even get up to go to the bathroom without help, or take a shower. I will be a burden for the rest of my life now.”

            “No you won’t! Armin and I love you, we don’t mind taking care of you for a while until you get used to this.”

            “What if I don’t get used to it though?”

            “Don’t think like that, you will! You are the strongest person I know-“

            “You know what Jean, this is all your fault.”

            The look on Marco’s face stole Jean’s breath away. He had never looked so stone cold, so serious, that Jean immediately shut down. His mouth dropped open, trying to form a sentence, a word, _something_ that would stop Marco from breaking his heart.

            But Marco’s harsh stare didn’t leave Jean’s as he stated, “I think it’s time for you to leave now, Jean.”

 

            The water burned his skin. It was the only thing that Jean could do to make sure he really was alive.

            He felt like he was floating, but not in the peaceful, nice way or in bliss. Jean’s body didn’t feel real anymore. He looked down at his red, nearly burned hands. They shook as he stared and flexed when he told them to, but he couldn’t comprehend that they belonged to him.

            The water was turning cold when he dropped to his knees on the tiles. There came to a point where he couldn’t tell his tears from the water pouring down on him.

            Marco’s voice had been so angry, so empty when he said Jean’s name. Jean knew deep down inside that Marco was just angry at being ‘disabled’, but that did not stop the tidal waves of pain and fear crashing over him.

            The scream that came out of Jean’s mouth didn’t sound like his own voice; instead it sounded like an animal dying and afraid.

            He shut off the water after a moment, and sat on the tile shivering.

            Jean felt weak and irrational; no one should make him feel so desperate and empty at the thought of them leaving.

            _It was just a thing,_ Jean found himself repeating in his head, _just a thing._

            “People have flings all the time,” he whispered, drawing up the energy to crawl out of the tub. “They have short relationships all the time, and they weep a little and then they’re all okay.”

            Jean pulled on his sweatshirt and some boxers and sat on the couch only to stare at the dark TV screen.

            “Yeah, it’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

 

            “Oh, hello Jean.” Armin answered the door after a couple knocks, and shooed Jean into the living room. “I didn’t know you were coming! I would have cleaned up a bit.”

            “Yeah, I didn’t know I was coming either.” Jean looked around the apartment, at the spotless floor and freshly dusted shelves. He thought back to his stained carpet and dishes pilled up in the sink with food still stuck to them. “Don’t worry Armin, it looks great in here.”

            After a week of sulking in the diner, Sasha had taken hold of the situation.

Jean had been trying to act as normal and functional as possible, managing to not cry since the shower incident. He had not heard anything from Marco during this time, but he didn’t text or call the freckled boy himself. He told himself that it was because he didn’t want to bother Marco during recovery, but late at night when he stared at the phone screen Jean was too afraid at what the reply would say.

Sasha could see right through his acting, and made up some bullshit excuse to drive Jean home after work one day only to stop at Armin and Marco’s apartment.

“No. No way I’m not going in there.”

“Jean, shut up for a goddamn second and start thinking. You guys were so close, even before you started dating. If it doesn’t work out you can still be friends-“

“No! I can’t just be friends with him. I will have to look at his face every fucking day and see something I can never have all to myself.”

“But isn’t that better than never seeing him again?” Sasha asked. Jean let his head hit the windowpane and let out a long sigh.

“I’m not ready. You didn’t see the look on his face! Marco meant it, and he doesn’t love me and never wants to see me again.”

“God stop being a whiny baby or else I’ll drag you up those steps on your ass and throw you at Marco’s feet so he can see how pathetic you are!”

That drew a small smile from Jean, and after a few more insults and shoves, Sasha got him out of the car. She could be a little rough and rude, but sometimes that was the only way to get through her friends’ thick skulls.

So Jean found himself awkwardly sitting with Armin, covering up the silence with terrible small talk.

“I heard it’s supposed to warm up soon,” Jean tried, but Armin wasn’t having it.

“He’s not home, he has physical therapy.”

Jean let out a big sigh of relief.

“How has he been?”

“I don’t even know who he is half the time.” Armin looked down at his hands knotting together in his lap. “Do you think we did the right thing?”

“Of course we did! Marco-Marco just needs to get used to it I guess. It’s a big change.”

“I heard what he said to you.”

“Oh, damn sorry you had to hear that.” Jean blushed.

“Well, it was his fault for talking so loud even though he knew we have paper thin walls. But I guess what I mean to say is: Sorry.”

“About what? You didn’t do anything did you?”

“I’m saying sorry on Marco’s behalf because he’s gotten something in his head telling him to be an ass right now. He shouldn’t have said something like that, and I won’t make excuses for him, but he’s having a rough time dealing with this lately and- and well Marco needs you Jean.”

“Like hell he needs me!”

“He does, but it just scares him. You’re so new to him that he doesn’t quite know what to do if anything were to happen. Marco has really only had me and his family growing up. We were in such a conservative town that when Marco came out he became such an outsider and target for bullying that most days he never went to school.”

“He never told me any of that.”

“I figured he wouldn’t. He doesn’t want to be the center of anyone’s pity either. Right now I think all his biggest fears seem so real to him right now that he has begun to think that his nightmares have come true. People will have a brand new reason to make fun and brand new jokes, but there is also the fact that people will think he can’t do anything because of his new handicap. Show him that this is not the case! Show Marco that those few stupid assholes don’t mean a thing!”

“How the hell should I do that? He hasn’t talked to me in a week. He probably hates me. Anyways, he has you for all of that therapy shit.”

“If he would listen to me that’d be great!” Armin threw his hands up in the air and stood up.

“Well, it’s not like he’ll fucking listen to me!” Jean stood up too, striding over to stand right in front of the blond.

“Who won’t listen to who?”

Armin and Jean snap their heads to face the door. When they weren’t paying attention Marco had come in and was now standing in the doorway, furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: jean's reaction is me when my bf and i broke up. first comes the tidal wave then comes the apathy!  
> he cares deep down he just seems like a dickwad poor bby can't deal with emotions  
> pls tell me if you see any mistakes or you like it at all! or if you hate it idc feelliingss
> 
> come talk to me about stuff  
> ace-ohearts.tumblr.com


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We hurt the ones we love, but what really matters is what we do after.

   “Who won’t listen to who?”

   “Oh, hey Marco! Who brought you home I thought you weren’t-”

   “I got out early, so I rode the metro.” Marco’s voice was stiff and curt. Jean felt like he was going to throw up again.

   “I would have picked you up you know.”

   The look Marco gave Armin could probably kill.

   With a sigh Armin left with some bullshit excuse about making tea.

   Jean shifted around uncomfortably in his seat. Marco was so close, but he couldn’t touch him. With a start Jean realized he had just been going through the motions of daily life, empty and dull, but he had not fully accepted that Marco was his anymore. With the boy standing right there just two feet away, feeling the universes between them, Jean’s throat closed up.

   Those brown eyes stared into Jean’s. He couldn’t read them, knowing only that they didn’t hold all the love and kindness they had always shown. There was something else there though, more emotion than Jean had ever seen.

   Marco bit his lip and interrupted the silence. “Do you want to, uh, come into my room?”

   It was so awkward it was tangible, but Jean wanted desperately to be next to the freckled boy so he nodded and followed behind.

   The room was different than the last time. The bed was made, but terribly. The chair in the corner had clothes piled on so that it was almost overflowing, but other wise it was clean. Almost like it was never used except to sleep.

   Out of the corner of his eye Jean saw the picture frames he had admired just weeks before. The majority of them were turned over, so only the cardboard back showed.

   Jean sat tentatively on the edge of the mattress while Marco stripped off his sweatshirt and dropped his bag next to the clothes-chair.

   “So, how you been?” Jean asked, carefully not looking at the other boy.

   “Better.”

   Better than what? Jean didn’t ask. He didn’t want to hear that Marco was doing better without him.

   Armin chose that time to walk in with a shaking tray full of tea. He set it down on the dresser and left with another bullshit excuse about homework.

   Jean didn’t like tea, but he took it anyways for something to do.

   Once the door closed the silence overwhelmed the boys again.

   “I’m sorry.”

   Jean almost spilled his tea at the sound of Marco’s voice.

   “A-about what?”

   The sound of the cup hitting the tray was almost ear shattering.

   “For treating you like I did.”

   “It’s okay,” Jean mumbled, finally looking up at Marco, “I understand.”

   “Do you really?”

   Jean thought about it. “No, no I don’t. I don’t know how to understand but I have tried so hard.”

   “You never change.” Marco smiled slightly before continuing. “I- I don’t really know what to do anymore Jean. I can’t go to school for a while because I can’t write, or focus with all these pain meds. I wake up in the night with phantom pains thinking that my arm is still there.”

   Jean opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but Marco took a deep ragged breath and spoke again.

   “So I need you to leave me and continue your life.”

   “You act as if you gave me a choice.”

   Marco looked taken aback by the boy’s smart response. “I can’t hold you back-”

   “Shut up for a goddamn second and listen to me!” Jean stood up and stalked over to Marco. “Stop acting like you are giving me a choice, that you don’t mean anything. You aren’t useless. My life was useless before I met you. I never went out and just moaned and complained about everything and then you came in and made me happy. I don’t want to go back to that.”

   Jean sat down on the floor, leaning his forehead on Marco’s legs.

   “I don’t want you to believe you are worthless because you aren’t. You never were and never will be, Marco Bodt.”

   When Marco’s legs started shaking Jean looked up at him to see his crying.

   "But-"

   "Now I want you to look me straight in my eyes and tell me you never want to see me again if that's what you really want." Jean hoped his voice didn't give away how terrified he was that Marco could actually do it. He had done it before after all.

   “I never want to see you again, Je-” Marco broke off, already looking away. “I can’t do it, I’m sorry I just can’t do it.”

   A strained laugh escaped Jean’s lips. He was so relieved he could cry - again.

   “Don’t be sorry Marco, I’m so fucking happy you couldn’t say that.”

   It only takes a minute before Marco laughs. He laughs until his tears dry, and when he’s finish he looks at Jean with his eyes bright.

   And it’s just like nothing ever happened.

   Of course they couldn’t pretend that nothing happened, but Jean was just ecstatic that he was able to talk to and be with Marco again that it really didn’t matter to him.

   Marco continued therapy for building up strength in his arm. He started going weekly to a behavioral person, which helped a lot with coping for him.

   And it was really just like nothing ever happened.

   Marco visited during three A.M. shifts and batted away Sasha’s hands when she tried to fry his shoes. School wrapped up, leaving more time for working off those student debts, but also more time for just being free.

   There were stares when they walked down the street holding hands, and while Jean liked to pretend sometimes that it was just because they were gay but Marco seemed to get over the weird looks he would get because of his stump.

   “Sir?” A little girl ran up to them in the park one day, tugging on Marco’s pant leg.

   “Yes?” He leaned down to be eye to eye with her.

  “What happened to you mister?” She pointed to Marco’s arm and Jean felt his blood run cold.

   “Um-” Jean started, but Marco looked up at him and shushed him.

   “Don’t worry, I have this.” Marco turned back to the toddler and smiled kindly. “Well you see here, I was sick for a very long time and the only way to get better was to make a sacrifice. A wimpy little arm isn’t much to save a life, don’t you think?”

   The girl’s brown eyes widen and she nods solemnly. “Oh yes!”

   Marco tweaks her nose. “Now make sure to eat your veggies so you don’t end up like me.”

   He stands up and winks at her, telling her to go find her mom. When she gives him a small salute he returns it with a smile. When the freckled boy turns back to look at his boyfriend he finds Jean smiling.

   “What’s that look for?”

   “Oh nothing, I’m just really proud of you right now.”

   “Oh shut up!” Marco punches Jean’s arm, but he’s laughing.

   Without thinking, the blond kisses him fiercely. It’s not quick, and maybe it’s not the most passionate, but Jean pours all his feelings into the one brief moment he’s reeling when he pulls back.

 **T** he stunned Marco let’s Jean pull him over to a grassy hill where they sit and watch the people go by. With Marco, Jean never felt rushed or that he always needed to be doing something. They sat and watched the sunset over the city, and while the light pollution blocked out the stars Jean traced the constellations on Marco’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO YOU SEE THAT 11/11 IT"S DONE
> 
> holy cow this has been a wild ride for me. im so sorry this took me so long but i am horrid at endings, as you can probably tell. 
> 
> I actually feel sad that im letting this go and its over, but i felt like this was the right place to end it. 
> 
> i love each and every one of you guys for reading this and giving this over 100 kudos when i didn't even expect 1!!
> 
> say hi on tumblr at queenofhearts.co.vu

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it:) Feedback is always appreciated and hey if you ever want to talk check me out on my tumblrs
> 
> queenofhearts.co.vu


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